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35 
1912 



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Class T^S 



Book 



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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 











BALLADS OF 
BLUE RIVER 


• 


J. D. ARCHER 

Copyright, 1912 
J. D. Archer, Chicago 




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Contents i *^ -o 'x. 



.1^5 



ft 1^ 



A Hoosier 'Coon Hunt . . . . . . 5 

Sugar Makin' Time . . . . . . . . 7 

When We Was Boys . . . . 11 

Sentiment Versus Improvement . . . . ..15 

The Old Foot Log .. .. .. 18 

Eli . . . . . . . . . . 20 

To a Violinist . . . . . . . . 21 

Evening on the Farm . . . . . . . . 22 

Sherwood's Pond . . . . . . . . 24 

June . . . . . . . . . . 26 

To a Pink Petaled Rose . . . . . . 28 

To the Toiler . . . . . . . . 30 

The Family Fireside . . . . . . 32 

Dame Nature's Caprice . . . . . . 34 

A Boy is a Boy . . . . . . . . 36 

At Rocky-Faced Ridge . . . . . . 39 

The Song of the Spirit Primeval . . . . 46 

The \^''ood Path's Challenge . . . . . . 48 

Pressler's Band . . . . . . . . 30 

Telling Them Over . . . . . . ..51 

Love, a Problem . . . . . . . . 34 

The Lost Rose . . . . . . . . 36 

Laugh Instead of Swearin' . . . . . . 57 

The Messenger to Garcia . . . . . . 38 

A Winter Evening . . . . . . 60 

When " Bub " Comes to Our House . . . . 63 



CCU30972S 



Lovingly Inscribed to My Mother 



T^HE grandest thing God ever made, — 
And he made many that were good,- 

Sublimest pattern e*er portrayed. 

Your own sweet type of womanhood. 




" You see 'im Bub ? Jist show me ! 
Oh, yes, on that big Hmb, I see." 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



A Hoosier 'Coon Hunt 



T T EAR the frost a crackin' in th' trees 
^ ^ In th' wood-lot. Law, it'll freeze 
Tonight. Crisp an' still as the light 
O' a full moon. Hummin' night 
Fer coon. Bill, load th' old shotgun. 
If you're a goin' along. Bub, run 
Git th' lantern an' th' ax right quick. 
Pete, you loose old Sail an' Trick 
An' start 'em out. 



Hi ! Aye ! Hear 'em tear an' beller. 
They're a gitten close ont' that old feller. 
Come along, boys, foller me. 
They'll soon have him up a tree. 
Hi ! There ! They've got 'im now. 
Golly! Don't they raise a row? 
On a basswood saplin', too, I jing. 
Bring th' ax. Bub, fell th' thing. 



See! It's kindo' swayin' some. 

In a minute down it'll come. 

Bill, hold Trick. Pete, you ketch Sail. 

Hold 'em, mind now, tight as whale. 

Keep 'em back there in a row 

An' when it falls jist let 'em go. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



Thoc it goes! Let 'cm loose. 
Nofir JHt waidi diat oooB 
Hip! Wkiop! HearHsqaalL 
That *are oaam aia*! jiit so wmaJL 
Sc! Sic mS^ Bfe BTikL 
Latw. diat oooB 6^ Eke 
Ke^ bac^ BoK aa* give 
Thcyll sooB se^ Ubi to Us 
Grab <JilSaaB0«r. Pete. 
Am* let Tddk do Ik' UKa* fesiL 
?tf|Bam llnmijli, oiHitiie, Ske a calL 
Tkem dogis dbB*t do dMqgs Iqr hall 



Theie di^ go off 
O»iso«tia^ 
BeHer'a wmmcm Aey Ai afore. 



di'ax» 
For bell be ticed k pst a idviL 
Tieed yon sagr? Yon bet. be*s i^ 
Listed maw at diat 'aie popu 
l^ am cdd adi tiee dss tne. 
Kkdo'euyOelDcUbL 
YoBsee mBdb? JiitdioirBe! 
Oh7a.«diatl]^UkI 



Fdl pst Eke a ton o' bncL 
Sbnke. hit diat old gv dU 
WdL dogi. I gpes di^ *« win do 
Fcrtnaii^ We w got dxse tivo 
la jilt an boiv; s» well qaii 
Ab* take avidier wi^ fer k. 
Git *cflii> hays, pot oa dieir nBgs 
Am bnig di* coGDs an* odicr Akgs 
Am' well go 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



Sugar Makin' Time 



VVTHEN you hear th' March winds blowin' 
^^ An' the wheat begins a kindo' growin', 

A lookin' green along th' hillsides far an' near. 
You know that sugar makin' time is here. 

Th' snow's all gone 'cept now an' then 
Deep drifts in some secluded glen; 
In the trees with branches wide 
A sugar bird sometimes is spied. 

When th' farmer sees all these 'ere things 
Hears a robin, first come, as it sings; 
Sees th' woodland thaw today an' freeze 
Tomorrow, he goes an' taps th' sugar-trees. 

At night while th' tired farmer sleeps 
Jack Frost through th' moonlight creeps, 
An' tinkers in th' camp alone awhile 
A hangin' little icicles onto every spile. 

He freezes sap that's in th' pails 
Hung to th' trees with hooks an' nails. 
He'd come out there on mischief bent 
An' didn't realize how fast time went. 

But soon th' moon drops out o' sight. 
An' Frost steals off when streaks o' light 
Begin to kindo' push up in th' east 
An' keep on risin' jist like yeast. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



An' then th' sun, a rosy ball o' fire 
Appears an' keeps a risin' higher 
Till o'er th' old farm-house it shows. 
Lights th' outline o' th' river where it flows. 

Soon in th' camp th' sun's begun 

To undo all that Frost has done. 

He draws th' ice-plugs from th' wooden spiles. 

For he is mos' familiar with Frost's wiles. 

An' now at last th' sap begins to run. 
Big drops that sparkle in th' sun. 
Th' farmer comes out with his team 
An* leads 'em down to water at th' stream. 

Then next th' boys come with th' dogs 
A chasin' chipmunks 'round th' logs. 
They hitch th' team up to th' wooden sled 
An' bring th' sugar barrels from th' shed. 

Then with th' dogs an' team an' all 
Drive here an' there 'mid bark an' call 
An' pour th' sap from pails unhung 
An' fill th' barrels to th' bung. 

Then they drive back with their load 
Along th' wiggly, giggly, windin' road 
An' stop at last before th' boilin' place 
Where th' kettles hang in space. 



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BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



Under these they build a roarin' fire 
An* pile th* back-logs up a little higher. 
Until th' old log-house is bright 
An' rosy with th' glowin' firelight. 

Th' kettles then with sap are filled 
An' while th' boys a hotter fire build. 
The farmer skims th' boilin' sheet 
An' leaves th' liquid only, pure an' sweet. 

And while he at the sugar camp remains 
To kindo' poke th' fire when it wanes. 
The youngsters drive off through th' camp agin 
An' haul another load o' sugar-water in. 

When all th' sap's been gathered for th' day 
They unhitch an' put th' team away 
Or else haul sugar-wood from far an' nigh. 
An' pile it up agin th' shed to dry. 

Then as long as there's any sun in sight. 
An' sometimes far into th' night, 
They watch th' sugar-water boil an' foam, — 
Watch th' smoke rings curl an' roam 

High up in th' chilly evenin' air 
An' like th' silent fairies, vanish there; 
An' when th' darkness settles all around 
Watch th' shadders playin' on th' ground; 



10 BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



Or watch th' shadders up among th' trees 
A flittin', ghost-like, anywhere they please. 
While th' dogs that should watch most 
Are seen sleepin' at their post. 

After a while th' sap boils kindo' low 
And its color changes to a golden glow 
And a savor sweet an' good falls 'round 
That nowhere else on earth is found. 

Then there is hurryin' 'round about. 
The syrup's taken off an' th' fire is put out, 
And all then homeward wend their way 
Glad th' work is ended for th' day. 

And thus they work day after day 

Till th' season wears itself away 

And the grasses start to growin' in th' spring. 

An' frogs in th' catswamps begin to sing. 

When th' buds on th' trees begin to swell 
It's mighty easy for the farmer then to tell 
That another run, maybe two, th' last 
And th' sugar makin' season will be past. 

Pretty soon th' flies come buzzin' 'round 
An' daisies peep up from th' ground 
And now it's time th' pails th' boys must gather 
Before th' hoops is loosened by th' weather. 

And thus it ends, the work as well as fun. 
For both in this are kindo' mixed in one. 
Here Labor is Fun's sober brother; 
You can't know one and not the other. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER " 



When We Wat Boys 



T VE got three brothers big as me. 

An' say what sport there ust to be 

When we was boys. 
On rainy days we stayed indoors. 
Run an' jumped, went on all-fours, — 

Made awful noise. 
Then Ma come in an' scolded us; 
Said we'd made a horrid muss. 

It was a raft 
O' fun. We'd look scared an' pout 
While she was there; when she went out 

We all jist laughed. 

We played War an' horse an' bear 
Pretended there was Indians there, — 

Out in th' hall. 
Earl would put on Ma's fur cape 
An' growl an' scratch an' snarl an' scrape 

An' fight us all. 
Then we played Waterloo one day: 
Charged an' banged an' slashed away 

Till Father called. 
But we fought on as we'd begun 
Till he come in, — spanked ever' one, — 

Then we all bawled. 



12 BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



We never cared when Ma would scold 
But Father's voice would turn us cold 

Most, when he spoke. 
When Ma would call us up at dawn 
We'd lay still an' sleep right on. 

But we soon 'woke 
When Father came towards the stair 
An' said, "You boys climb out o' there." 

We'd up an' dress 
An' Bill would rub his eyes an' say, 
"Lordy ! Could jist sleep all day. 

Short nights, I guess." 

And Oh, them drowsy summer days 
When the sun poured down its rays 

Most like profusion spilt. 
When the birds jist couldn't sing 
Fer breathin', and ever'thing 

Seemed like, would wilt. 
Then those evenin's when the day 
Jist like sweet music died away 

When you didn't want it to. 
The breezes softened down someway 
Kindo' zif they'd like to stay 

The whole night through. 

One day Father went away 
'Specting to be gone all day. 

That's what he said. 
Said we should stay an' chore around 
An' cut weeds in the new corn ground. 

Sooner been dead 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER is 



Than to cut weeds. Sun hot an' bright. 
Eve said he thought the fish would bite. 

We thought they might 
An' got our poles, us three an' Bill 
Slipped down the crick beyond the hill 

Clear out o' sight. 

Gee ! but we caught fish that day. 
An' such ole whoppers, I should say! 

Jist seemed to wait 
Fer us to put bait on the hook 
Then in about a wink they took 

Their dose o' fate. 
Had quite a string o' fish by noon 
But Father come about that soon 

And found us there. 
Bill held up the string we'd caught. 
Said that we'd done well, he thought. 

Short time we's there. 

Father's face when he first come 
Was awful stern, but softened some 

When Bill said that. 
Bill's way of sayin' things, seemed like 
Most always somehow 'peared to strike 

The spot jist pat. 
Well, we got scolded quite a bit 
An' promised what we'd prob'ly git 

Another time. 
Bill gethered up the string of fish 
And said them suckers in a dish 

Would look sublime. 



1^ BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



Us other boys all said "You bet" 
Picked up the poles that we'd jist set 

An' follered Bill. 
Father looked up at the sky 
And said if he could profisy 

Them clouds would spill 
Some water down that afternoon 
And then them weeds would soon 

Drownd that com out. 
But Earl said, "Oh, mebby not 
In jist that little time it's got. 

Corn's pritt}^ stout'* 

Well, we went to school some, too. 
When there was nothin' else to do 

Out on the farm. 
Stand it all right up to June 
When we could go barefoot at noon. 

Gee! What a charm 
The ole crick had fer us. So still, 
Ripplin' lazy-like at ^vill 

On Magley's place. 
Where we could wade an' chase green frogs; 
Watch turtles ka-plunk off the logs 

Along the race. 

Jist seems like but yisterday 
That I heard "Bub" Magley say, 

"Now fer a swim," 
When off we started, ever' soul 
Makin' fer the swinmiin' hole 

In the growin' dim 
Of evenin' while the whip-por-will 
Somehow kindo' haunted Bill 

With its song. 
And an old owl yelled out "Who-o-o'* 
And jist as if he thought he knew 

Laughed loud an' long. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



15 




Sentiment Versus 
Improvement 



A CUR'OUS feelin' comes a-tuggin' at my heart 
That ends up in a kind o' half-hke shiver 
When I reflect that they're goin' to start 

Next spring an' dredge down ole Blue River. 

Of course it will redeem some land 
Which as it is ain't wuth a Continental ; 
But, Lor' a' Mighty ! You don't seem to un'erstand — 
It ain't no question o' jist cost an' rental. 

Maybe you never played along that stream 

In blouse an' bluejeans when you was a boy; 

Or cast a line athwart th' sunshine's gleam 

An' watched th' cork bob up an' down fer joy. 

Maybe you never slipped away at noon 

With Sam an' Bub an' Jud an' Bill 
An gladder'n a brown thrush's tune. 

Spent hours in th' swimmin' hole beyont th' hill. 



16 BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



It does a feller jist a heap o' good 

To saunter down that hooky-crooky path agin 
That winds through flags an* dense brushwood 

That your fish-Kne ust to git all tangled in. 

Most ever' nook an' turn in that old stream 
Has a warm place in my recollection spot. 

But that 'are tarnalation dredgin' scheme 
'11 up an' spoil it all, jis' like as not. 

Picturesqueness is th' life o' Art, 

An' old Blue River surely had her share 
An' Bub an' Jud an' us jist knew by heart 

Ever' nook an' crook 'round anywhere. 

But then I s'pose it's got to go, — 

Th' neighbor's all got their heads set. 

Yet deep down in their hearts, I know 

They're smotherin' down some huge regret. 

It won't seem like th' same old place 

When they git th' stream-bed all dug out. 

An' drain th' water from th' old mill-race, — 
Spoil all th' beauty of it, jist about. 

Th' Deep-hole will be all filled in, 

Th' knotty foot-logs all be cut away. 

Gee Whiz ! Th' old creek won't begin 

To have th' beauty of that gone-by day. 

Won't be no fishin' grounds no more 

With drifts cut out an' deep-holes gone; 

No hidin' places like they had before. 

An' like a grasspike's always countin' on. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER i^ 



Seems like thwartin' Natur', sure. 

To up an' twist her plans around 
Jist to make improvements and insure 

Redeemin' of a foot or two o' ground. 

Oom! Jist give me one more fleetin' chance 
At childhood down on them old banks; 

Let us do jist one more Indian dance 

While that 'are red-bird whis'les thanks. 

Or dive off in "old Deepy" 'nother time, 

A startin' 'way up there above th' bend. 

An' hold my breath till my ears chime — 

Come sputterin' up down at th' other end. 

Hide all our clothes, as them boys did. 

An' let th' deerflies bite like sin; 
Mud me up from head to foot till I'm mos' hid, 

N'en up an' douse me in head first agin. 

I'd like another chance about last o' September 
To go a nuttin' with th' boys awhile, — 

Takin' th' path they all would remember, 

Jist go along old-fashioned, Indian style. 

Start a rabbit somewhere in th' swamp 

An' see 'm skite off through th' brush. 

An' see old Shep yelp out an' jump, 

An' scare th' daylights out o' some brown thrush. 

But then folks says th' dredgin' will be done. 

An' true, I s'pose it mos' jist must. 
So give me one more look, jist one. 

Long — lingerin' then let 'em do their wust. 

Oh well, th' boys ain't there no more. 

Time's bound to change things more or less. 
While dollars shines so th' world o'er. 

Sentiment don't count fer much, I guess. 



w BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



The Old Foot Log 



T IKE Ae lustre that peers fondly 

Tliroagh the portals of a dream 
Of long ago, looms a YisioD glad 
Of a great tree f alkn o'er a stream 
Where in childhood's gusty moments 

We oft loitered at noonday; 
In the crystal dqpths beneath os 

^ atched the shining minnows play. 



whirled away beneath us 

Bearing moments all imseen; 
And in ^cmous oblivion 

Of the sonbeams homing sheen 
Did we watch die armored fishes 

0*er the pd)bly bottom ^Ue 
Showing at each dart and ang^ 

A clear, tuning, silver side. 

Hats hmig high up on a limb ; 

Bare feet pending o'w die tide; 
Cheek to cheek with glad ^oyment 

Saw the rq)ples hither ^ide. 
Hour after hour drifted 

'Neath Aat old foot-log each day. 
Hurried onward o'er the surface 

All nnhpfdpd on its way. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



19 



Drift and sparkle, Recollection, 

With the sheen of each past day 
When we hugged Dame Nature fondly 

In our own untroubled way. 
The future then all expectation 

Told no surer Life's next trend 
Then told it when the next swift eddy 

Would whirl from above the bend. 




» BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



EU 



1VJ OW, Eli was a rugged pioneer 

^ ^ That ust to live in our neighborhood. 

He fished an' fished th' live-long year, — 

Jist in his glory when th' fish bit good. 
And then he liked to hunt some, too. Law me! 

Oft-times he'd take his houn's an' old shotgun. 
An' any quail or cottontails he'd see. 

He'd up, — off hand, — an' two or one. 
Somehow Eli would git 'em. 

Jist lots o' times I've seed him stand 

Somewhere out in our woodlot, while th' rain 
Come pourin' down, an' unconcerned like, scanned 

Some dead tree-top, when it seemed mighty plain 
To me that there was nothin' there, an' yet. 

First thing I knowed up went his gun, an — bang ! 
'I Jing, jist Hke th' whole world was upset. 

And then I'd see a fox squirrel hang 
Then drop an' Eli'd git 'im. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 21 



To a Violinist 



T HAVE often wished I could 
'■' Play a violin as good 

As some players I have heard. 
Notes as pure an' sweet an' clear 
As ever fell on Triton's ear ; 

Trills light as a mockin' bird, 
Sometimes dreamy, soft an' low. 
Then th' notes would swell an' grow 

Then throb an' sob, then change to gay 
An' gladsome trill, then writhe in woe. 
Next in a ripplin' rill tune flow 

In liquid sweetness fall and die away. 
Jist seem th' sweetest e'er they're gone 
When I would hold them on an' on 

Same as I'd hold th' last bright gleam 
O' sunset e'er th' twilight's thrall 
Falls round about an' hides it all. 

Like sad-glad cadence of a dream. 



22 BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



Evening on the Farm 



CVENIN* has come. The day's work is done. 

You're free to do anything under th' sun. 
With Pup at your heels you go to th' woods 
Where th' moon shinin' through th' weather-worn hoods 
O' th' elm trees that stand on th' river bank 
Makes ghosts of th' stumps an' snags so lank. 

In th' swamp th' last drum o' th' pheasant is heard; 

Mother White is a callin' for Bob, poor bird, 

Who has hid away from th' hawks all day 

In th' deep grass that stands by th' way 

Of th' windin' path that th' cattle have made ; 

Up out o' th' water th' flock o' ducks wade 

An' go waddlin' off in single file 

Up hill, all noiseless, Indian style. 

By th' same windin' path all rock-strewn an' hard 

That leads from the river's edge up to th' yard. 

Pup bristles up to th' bank in a spunk 

As a muskrat slides into the water ka-plunk. 

An' all that he sees where th' thing disappeared 

Is the laughin' old Moon there calmly mirror'd 

A smilin* as though he had swallowed it up. 

An 'thought he had played a good joke on poor Pup. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



23 



But after a while th* woods becomes still. 

Your mind with queer fancies seems somehow to fill 

While over you steals an insistin' desire, — 

A longin*, in fact, for th' old kitchen fire 

Then fear come on tip-toe an' says, "Don't look back 

For goblins an' wildcats is smellin' your track," 

And a few minutes later you're back at th' house 

With Pup at your heels and as meek as a mouse. 

When you've had you're supper, read th' news o' th' day. 
An' pulled off your boots, — ^put th' boot-jack away. 
When th' folks are all nappin' an* nothin's bein' said. 
Slip away in your stockin'-feet upstairs to bed. 




24 BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



Sherwood's Pond 



TVTEIS'LEX) snugly an' serene 

In a quiet vale that stretched bet^veen 
Two hills, on the eastward orchard crowned. 
On th' westNvard woodland bound. 
Where crooked pathways wind and creep 
And fleecy patches mark the browsing sheep; 
Banks with green grass fringed an' lawTied, 
Memory veiled, Hes Shens'ood's Pond. 

We ust go acrost lots to school 
Through th' fields an' orchards as a rule 
An' had to pass by the pond on our way 
An' I tell you, on a summer day 
With sunshine floodin' things all over. 
Fish a-flouncin' an' bees in th' clover. 
It WcLs jist hke drivin' Swigart's mule 
To git our feet to go t'ward school. 

Seems like only jist last year. 
With sunmier come an' dog days near. 
That us youngsters, pleasiu^e bent. 
To that 'are pond at high noon went. 
Sailed our boats an' fished an' swam 
In th' deep hole by th' dam. 



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BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 25 



After we*d swum an hour or more, 
Some, shiverin* cold, would wade ashore. 
Quiet-like, an' start a-puttin' on their clothes. 
When someone in th* pond would hold his nose. 
Dive an* bring up clay-mud from th' bottom. 
If th' fellers on shore wasn't watchin' — swat 'em, — 
Smear 'em with mud till there was nothin' else to do 
'Ceptin' wade back for another plunge or two. 

Seemed like ever'body in the country knew 

'Bout that 'are ix)nd, an' knew Jud Sherwood, too. 

He liked to hunt nuts in th' fall 

In Foust's woods, an' th' tree was mighty tall* 

That he couldn't shin up to th' very top 

An' slash till th' last nut would drop. 

Could make bows an' arrows out o' hick'ry wood ; 

Shoot 'em, too, straight as any Indian could. 

Jud was always makin' somethin' new 

Like divin' boards an' rafts fer floatin', too. 

An' many a time we worked away till dark 

To float some new concern that he called Noah's Ark, 

Till his mother, kind o' worried, would call "Judd-e-e" 

about then 
An' he dim upon th' fence an "Whoo-whoo-ed" back 
again. 

In winter-time the ice was a foot thick 
Then broke an' over-run an' re-froze slick. 
Th' whole Beech Chapel crowd come down 
With skates an' sleds; some come from town 
An' after tumblin' 'round a heap a-tryin' fancy whirls 
Th' big chaps kind o' edged around to walk home with 
th' girls. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



In \Ninter's cold or summer's heat 

That *2Lre old pond was hcird to beat 

An' when I ponder o'er them days gone by 

When Jud an' Sam an' Eve an' I 

An' Bub an' Bill jist lived down there. 

So to ^>eeLk, Lords o' earth an' free as air, 

I jist natur'ly can't help a thankin' God 

For that 'are p)ond o' water an' them hills o' sod. 



June 



\ T tide of mom in bud o' June 

^^^ ^Tien Life seems fresh and balmy-lined. 
When all the birds their lyres tune 

As though they kind o' half divined 
Th' way of things; the sun half shines. 

Half gloams, an' no breeze stirs; 
Th' droopin' leaves jist sort o' pines 

An' Nature Ustlessly defers 

The things of Earth an' lets 'em steep; 

The cricket seems to drone his lay. 
The spiders reef their webs to creep 

Into an' sleep a lazy spell away; 
That 'are is June. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 27 



Then after while that gloom thicks up. 

The air hangs heavy, hot an' low; 
Each flower droops its little cup 

An* seems ter wait; the roosters crow 
Then slip away on tip-toe like 

Toward th' shed an', one-legged, there 
Make prophesy; the breezes strike 

Up soft an' balmy ever' where 
And darkness seems someway to drop 

Down on th' earth. Just then th' rain 
Comes sprinklin' through the old tree-top — 

Like prelude to some fuller strain — 
That 'are is June. 

Then dark — and darker — darker still. 

The air gits more an' more menacin*. 
Then zif some sea'd upset to spill 

An' come down ever'thing defacin'. 
And all the Furies had got scared 

An' had let loose of ever'thing. 
Then when they'd doneit, kind o' cared. 

Relented, did their best to bring 
Back peace o' the Elements — and then the Sun 

Looks out an' smiles a smile so good 
An' seems so glad at what they've done; 

The Brown Thrush laughs loud in th' Wood — 
That 'are is June. 



» BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



To a Rnk-Petaled Rose 



r^ TELL 
^^ So pare and 



HowdUjon^dkose tints of HeafOft's boiis? 

The qfueens of every realm in secret pine 

Your tints and sweetoess, 

Yoiir racfiaiit onvlriaes. 
Yet ne'er fivcd cpKoi wA bet iMt 



Was k bnn tk GanlcB of dK Godi 7« Im^bt 

Perfumed 



And pelab fair anc - i:— Jumaly li MWwjil ? 
I ivonder iii^ the ivbole iiRodd loves joa so. 



Vrhy snobeaBBS kwiL Ac 9^ wiieiisaa yvm 90if . 



WIqt palace boA and !■« are pravd to be 

Spots of yom ^iwwMii^ 
Yov pebJ-bnrst at n)annDg 
s Dear perfecbon as can be. 



Your land has bloomed throng countless ages 



Alwmf% 
ELach year wilk bker bloom-bant ikas Ae hdL 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 29 



Your perfume spreads a dream- veil over me. 

Which stirs me queerly, — 

Bids me love you dearly. 
Drives sorrow herice and gives the world to me. 

Oh tell me, radiant, rare, pink-petaled Rose, 

Drooping so divinely. 

Smiling so benignly. 
How have you kept those tints of Heaven's bows? 




30 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



To The Toiler 



"VE SONS of Labor, why this turmoil, 
^ Why this unending, fierce disquiet? 
Why this so violent commotion, — 

This ever growing lust for riot? 
The end you aim at. Oh my Brother, 

Is not brutal mobilation. 
What can you hope from wanton bloodshed,- 

What wreak you of annihilation? 
Who envieth a richer brother 

Breeds but ferment around his soul. 
You know not how his coffers grew, — 

Whose lifeblood wrought his talent roll. 

The womb of Poverty doth breed 

Not only fair, angelic mould. 
Nor that of pampered Wealth bear forth 

Lone Devil-monsters fierce and bold. 
Have you not seen of times untold 

Fairest of lilies from dunghills spring 
And richest of soil from substance pure 

But rank growth of thistles bring? 

Who of you would not bravely bear 

The smite of Wealth if you but found 
Rolled 'neath the hand that dealt the blow 

Its millions done in Sterling pound? 
The fancied evils we behold 

Are oft but the fruits of idle mind. 
Ripened by Envy's gentle warmth. 

Plucked by a reason goaded blind. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 3i 



The grandest handiwork of God, — 

An honest man whose daily cup 
Stinks not of greed or malice raw. 

But with contentment welleth up. 
He who can say when the day is done, 

In truth, **I did the best I could." 
Reaps a contentment bom of God, 

Who, seeing it, pronounced it good. 

Though it be not our lot to own 

Goods of this earth measured in gold. 
Let us, child-like, use what we have. 

Making of it a wealth untold. 
He who can look up to his God 

Delighting in some good deeds done 
Is richer far than millionaire 

Who dreads the light of each new sun. 

Pause then, a moment. Brother mine. 

Ponder the ends you aim at well. 
What of the goal for which you strive, — 

Having but the one soul to sell? 
Oh that the daily deeds you do 

Be done to brothers as such should 
And hand in hand in each day's strife 

Make him to think that it was good. 

What though your days be days of toil 

Enshrouded at times in damps and mud, — 
Strive on, with soul all clean of spoil; 

Hands unstained with your brother's blood. 
In that day when we shall be judged, — 

When the Great Judge shall say, "Divide." 
We will not be judged by gold in store. 

But by deeds to those at our side. 



32 BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



The Family Fireside 



A MID evening shades of an Autumn day 

When the sun had hid itself away 
Beyond th' forest's darkenin' screen. 

Where grim gray trunks are dimly seen 
In shadder, you kind o' feel a strong desire 
To pile th' wood high on the kitchen fire 
An' there toast sides an' cheek an' nose 
In th' heat th' big blaze throws 
Out ever' where. 



It's logic to get pretty near 

If someone's claims don't interfere. 
Though laws of cige-right in th' home 

Are bindin' as th' laws o' Rome: 
Father sittin' yonder with th' news 

Has let his paper drop to snooze 
An' mother's there on t'other side a-knittin' 

On someone's woolen sock or mitten 
With now an' then a nod an' jerk 

An' wakin' up to resimie work 
An' pick up stitches that she dropped 

At th' time her knittin' stopped. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 83 



Pup lays there behind th' stove 

A-dreamin' of a whole big drove 

O* coon an* possum, while on th* mat, 

A purrin' in contentment lays th' cat; 
Through th* winder there th* sinkin' moon 

Shines cold an* calm. Poor night fer coon 
To be out, and th* lurin', cracklin* blaze 

Flashin' out its genial rays. 
Keeps you there. 

Oh th' joys of them evenin's, th' cheer 
Of that fireside a long ago so dear, 

And those warm, delightful rays 
Still through Mem*ry's portals blaze 

As at times I pull them open wide 
An* bask agin by that old fireside. 

Let th' moon jist wink an* blink ; 

Let Jack Frost play rinky-tink 
In th* trees, while th* coons jist scream 

An' th' possums hang an' dream 
Where they are; let th' night-larks flitter; 

Let th' screetch-owls screetch an' twitter; 
Pup an' me are mos' content 

To let things lean th' way their lent, — 
To rough it on the present fare 

With coonpelts hung 'round ever'where. 
While th' evening slips away 

An' hastens in the' wake o' day. 



94 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



Dame Nature's Caprice 



T\ AME Xatu.r :.:- {:.t ;;■-.:.. ..;:.ngs,. 
^*"^ If 1 ime but stops to prune kis wiags 

Or turn the sane :n ni: r:rnt s^ass. 



And X ::::.i j senmcl. 

It \^•as late in October grown 

No c: - • /- ' ^ e'er this day had blo\N-n. 

The sun v, ; :rr.L. the day was warm, 
The whiows green, no signs of storm. 
They say, were seen. 

All o'er the land sti.. :;: ;. :t seen 

Both trees and cusr.es dressed in green. 

There still the robin peri-rTi: ?nd sang, 

The dove as ^vhen r.r;: :;:.:ng notes rang 
Cooed in content 

The orchard yet de&ed the fiosL 

T e ' - ^ trees the breeze sbll tossed. 

A solitary :.;:-: :m peeped 

\^'ith tints fr:ni an old rainbow steeped 
From shaded ho\s-er. 

Then night came on, the sun still bright 

Went d: .. ;,nd hid the earth from sight; 

Dame Nature came forth m the dark, 
She s : ; and meadowlark« 

/.-..e 1 ime knewnoL 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER ^ 



She cast o'er earth a robe of snow 

And made the cold, chill winds to blow; 

Built white pagodas for the hare 
And o'er the foxes' lair 

Raised portico. 

The storm she hurled through elm and oak 

And maple, which but moaned, then broke 

The lone bud's stem, and loud complained. 
Its lovely rainbow tints disdained. 
And cast it down. 



At morning Time was quick awake. 

He thought there must be some mistake 
When people said, " 'Tis Winter cold." 

But half the days his accounts told 
Were done of Autumn. 

But when he'd cleared his eyes of night 

The truth dawned with the morning light. 

'Dame Nature has been here, I see," 

He said, "And wrought a joke on me. 
Few are as she." 



* BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



A Boy is a Boy 



HE'S BUT a boy." folb say. 
"AD he's fit for is play." 
But Sk Doy noiif , inclrra, 
Afi^hacve a wofse cataac to plead, 
ihofigli a boy has nis 
Halfof^rfiicliBOOM 
Nopir, im dodies may not fit. 
But he doesi't bmI iL 
It is his own affair 
ShonUhe I naJi not his hair 
Wide he's a hoy. 

His bioafl face may be smeared, 
tfis hands faioiVM aad seared. 
He's BO lime to keep dean 
WheB dme's woifc to he seen ; 
C^ die faim or m %amm 
FiOB sD»«p to ^m - <1liw 
I^ fivk anfthMg to «lo)> — 
Somedmig novel and new 
To a boy. 

Then diose maudlin fists 
Both leem hiose at the wiids. 
And diat li Mil iiiiL talk 
Aad diat -ISdEfaB" walk 
Ashe dnows a^ his chest 
And heals it wilh zest 
Of a boy. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 3? 



Then fishing time came. 
He must go just th' same 
So he hid the big hoe 
And let the weeds grow. 
He acted from reason: 
There is but one season 
For good fishing, they say. 
Weeds would grow anyway 
To worry a boy. 

He could ride that colt, Nell, 
With a wave and a yell ; 
Every tool on the place he 
He could wield with fine grace; 
Any piece he could speak. 
Though his voice oft would squeak. 
And then when he sang 
With that bullfrog-like twang — 
But why should he care? 
There was nobody there 
Better'n a boy. 

Tell a story of war. 
Though it date back to Thor, 
It would stick in his brain 
Like a link in a chain 

Were he a real boy. 

He looked manly and bold 
Oftentimes when told 
Of the deeds he would do 
When to manhood he grew; 
How in far distant lands 
He would fight the "brigands," 
Aye! And win him a name 
Twined with garlands of fame 
So dear to a boy. 



38 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



Then why should you scold? 
Soon enough he'll grow old. 
Let him build castles gay. 
Time will clear them away. 
He must have room to build. 
Let those hands become skilled. 
Who has more need of sway? 
He's heard all of you say, — 
Read in song and in rhyme. 
That there shall come a time 

When he won't be a boy. 




BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER ^ 



At Rocky-Faced Ridge 



A tale of war, as related by a soldier of the late Rebellion while we lounged 
by a campfire on the banks of Blue River one evening in springtime, after we had 
**8et our fish poles" and waited for the suckers to bite, as they traveled up stream, 
which they usually do during the month of March, lurking in the deep holes of 
the channels. 



T T was in spring in sixty-four. 
'^ The war waged on with ramp and roar, 
And Sherman with his armies three 
Was marching boldly toward the sea. 
As morning sun streamed o'er the vale. 
Quick sounded drum taps from the dale 
Which roused the soldiers from repose; 
A noise of martial tread arose 
And many came for last roll call 
E'er in the throes of war they'd fall. 

On Georgia's sunny slope a town 

Called Dalton, then of small renown. 

Was guarded by the Southern foe. 

And north from this more strength to throw 

About this city small, a band 

Upon a towering ridge took stand. 

This ridge fell off to northward down 

Six hundred feet and seemed to frown 

Upon the Union host. Then on 

Afar to northward as a lawn. 

The ridge with summit narrow grown 



40 BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



Found end in mammoth crags of stone. 

Here Thomas with his army lay. 

And quiet waited dawn of day. 

A quiet that foretold a storm: 

The sun forth coming bright and warm. 

Saw tented host gleam o'er the dale; 

Part on the ridge, part in the vale. 

Some wrapped in sleep, the prelude sweet 

To that deep rest Time would repeat. 

And when at length the camp awoke. 

High rose a thousand campfire's smoke; 

Then loud and clear the bugle peal 

Announced the soldier's frugal meal. 

No orders yet had been received. 

And those from duty last relieved 

Lounged in the camp to rail 

And jest or tell some thrilling tale 

Of war or chase. Now in one place 

A youth of noble form and face. 

Whose furlough ended had returned. 

Whose heart for fame and rank deep burned. 

Before his tent sat all alone, 

While o'er his form the sunbeams shown: 

A dreamy, listless, faroff gaze 

Shown in his eyes, the wonted blaze 

Of humor gone, that had before 

Made felt the good will there in store. 

He drew a package from his breast. 

Which to his mother was addresed. 

In silence looked he on it long. 

"Today will tell, if right or wrong," 

At length he said and it replaced 

And to his duties fell in haste. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER ^i 



Tipped back upon a mass of light. 
Soft hair, a veteran cap of bright. 
New shades he wore. Lieutenant was 
His rank and as wise warrior does 
Took time to poHsh his good blade 
That keener edge his cause might aid. 
As thus he sat, another lad 
Approached, exchanged the hat he had 
For that Lieutenant Ehlers wore, 
(For this the name the young man bore) , 
And through the camp went on parade 
While busy Ehlers no heed paid. 
At length an omnious boom was heard. 
The bugle screamed like angry bird 
The call, "Fall in." Quick all obeyed. 
The army stood in force arrayed; 
Lieutenant Ehlers hailed the youth 
Who wore his cap and said, "Deluth, 
I want my cap, please." **Oh, let me 
Wear it just today," said he. 
"No," Ehlers said in grave, firm tone 
"The cap I wear today, mp oTpn 
Must be, for something says within 
That though in strife we loose or win. 
Upon the field today I die. 
That cap must croTvn me where I lie,** 
The lad in awe returned the gear. 
The Colonel, Mcllvane, stood near 
By chance and overheard the last. 
His mind recalled their boyhood past; 
He quickly stepped to Ehler's side. 
Strong gush of feeling could not hide. 
And said, "Lieutenant, you have been 



^ BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



Found true to duty and your men 

And if in truth you feel this way. 

Retire to the train and stay 

Until this dark day's work is done. 

Thy widowed mother needs her son" 

"Colonel,'* the soldier said, the grave 

Look still in tone and eye, "The brcn^e 

Should never swerve from Dut^*s call. 

Though danger point them to their fall; 

Nor would my mother wish to see 

A vacant post w^here I should be. 

I leave this package. Sir, with you. 

And if be this presentment true. 

Give it to her, say for the most, 

*He died a soldier at his post.* " 

The colonel knew not more to say. 

The package took and turned away. 

E'en now the movement had begim. 

The seige guns came and one by one 

Toiled from the north through narrow lanes 

Which winding upward from the plains 

Found passage through the craggy wall 

Like entrance to a convent hall. 

Through this one piece was drawn by hcmd. 

Round it brave gunners took their stand. 

Like hail the bullets round them tell 

Like tenpins fast the gunners fell. 

No mortal strength could stand the storm, 

No gunner could his part perform. 

E'er leaden missile true to aim 

Reeked ghastly impress on his frame. 

Then quickly was the piece withdrawn. 

As quick the infantry came on 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER ^ 



Out through the gap like swarming bees. 
Like rushing torrents of the seas 
Rush o'er that table land of death 
With flashing eye and measured breath; 
They form and make a gallant dash 
'Mid rain of death and blinding flash. 
Dense clouds of smoke envelop all. 
By scores they see their comrades fall. 
A moment more and they had won. 
To scale the wall they had begun 
When o'er the fortress wall of stone. 
On foeman gun a white hat shown. 
'*Cease fire, cease fire," the siege men cried, 
'Cease fire," was echoed far and wide. 
'Their strong defence doth not avail." 
Like sudden lull in mighty gale 
The firing ceased, the smoke-clouds rose 
And rolled away, but to expose 
To surer aim the seething mass 
Forthcoming through the narrow pass. 

Woe, woe to life when paused they here 
With victory waiting them so near. 
For quick the foe made this avail 
To hurl again their leaden hail. 
Changed exultation to despair; 
Besiegers fell by hundreds there. 
Till mortal could endure no more. 
And then they fled like deer before 
The scorching flames of prairie-fire 
To gain the pass — their lone desire. 



« BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



The few survivors rushed pell-mell. 
Left dead and d>'iiig where they fell. 
And refuge sought behind the row 
Of friendly crsigs, and dared but Aow 
A hmb, e'er musket-bullets true 
Quickly pierced it through and through. 

Then Mcllvane forth came and said, 

"W'Tiere's Elhlers, Wolf?" but qfuickly read 
The answer in the captain's eyes: 

*'Out vonder. Colonel, Ehlers Hes." 
Another man for Wolf repHed 

"Come, boys; we'll carr>' him inside," 
The Colonel said, and strode the way. 
A dozen forms his progress stay. 

"It means sure death to venture there — 
Few more today our cause can spare,** 
He waved them back and in deep tone 
Cried, "Stay, Fll bring him back alone." 
Then stayed he not to hear reply. 
Then heeding not the warning cry. 
Went forth. Ten paces scarce he made 
When hfe the debt of valor paid- 
A bullet felled him in his track. 

"Drag me hack, boys; drag me hack," 
He cried. A dozen comrades came. 
They drew him back, they spoke his name. 
Silent, pale and weak he lay 
While strength and Hfe fast ebbed away. 
Thus on the field in ill-starred fray 
Two noble lives went out that day. 
Like loyal knights, in days of yore. 
True friendships stood the test once more. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER ^ 



That night the foemen stole away 
And on the field at break of day 
Lay many forms so cold and still. 
Devoid of strength and life and will. 
Their comrades laid them in their graves 
In battle dress, like Sachem braves. 
There resting calm from war-throes free. 
They await a grander Reveille. 




BALLADS : " LLAI PL AIR 



The Song of the Spirit Primeval 



T^HE]RE*S a sweet, majestic miisic 
^ In the silence of the gloaming. 
An asBDiance in the wing-beat 

Of die swallow's evening homing. 
There's a si^endiH- in die heam-ny 

Of die son-nse of die inoiiDng» 
And a ^hckess in die Uoom-bmst 

Of each lose's fair adorning; 
There's a heait-duob in die noon-day 

Of a Jane-day gendy wanning 
And a nqitnre m die dood-ioQ 

And die dmnder's wiMesI stonning; 
There s a sympadietic shnrer 

In die dew-diop's silent dinging 
Like nnio a tear-diop's qoiiFer 

'Neadi die lash idxre smow's wiinging; 
Someone's singbig scxnevdiere alway 

And some sool is ever dnilling. 
D :e airing, wond'ni^ hoping; 

Ever We some heart is filling. 

Ever izA: in pure primevaL 

E e: : :eadi of sin in smiting, 
Se a: s = r. z r. i: :: ens its first heauly, 

~ = s ^ : c: s :iz 3.2 e for its lifflitiiig. 
Li^e unto a sea-didl singing 

SoDg of sea from whence in <joming 
It : = ug-: _; the wavdcls' Wesong 

IX^di its cfistant, dreamy ■■■wnwg; 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER *7 



But as shells are worn by motion 

And their songs are ever changing. 
Changed by waters ever waring 

In their wide and endless ranging. 
Oft-times lost their songs forever. 

So the soul with sin surrounding 
Loses both its song and song-tune 

In the midst of Life's confounding. 
As the Lotus freshly blooming 

Looks to heaven, ever smiling. 
With heart bared of all save beauty. 

With no hint of thoughts defiling; 
Is by nature pure and spotless. 

Fairest with its blooms new bursting; 
Petals white as angel's robing 

Radiant as when donned in ersting. 
Lives a simple life of quiet. 

Dreaming, waiting, wond'ring, musing. 
To each breeze's sonnet listing. 

Incense of its heart diffusing. 
So the soul's first simple song is 

Sweet and pure and fresh and growing. 
Bearing in its golden bosom 

Love of God to overflowing. 

Happy is that soul which growing 
Keeps on ever blithely singing; 

Life's first impulse ever loving. 
Faithful to it ever clinging. 

As the lover to his first love 

Turns again with tender longing. 
Turns and tells again the story. 

Sings again his heart's old songing. 
So the spirit turns it backward. 

Turns and lists imto the calling 
To the unchanged voice primeval 

With its music sweetly falling. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



The Wood Path's Challenge 



/^~^ VER joa IiiDs die woodbmds are calling; 
^-^ Scent of wood bunuiig 

Kindes heart yearning; 
Whisiles the qpiail ivlieie hrown leares are falling. 



Tkmgjbis of die picsent are bedDoning wildly 

To scenes most aDiiring, 

My pteasme insuring; 
Pictmes die lagoon sUnuneniig imkD^. 

Bhab of the dik^ei: deqiens peice|iiiblf 

As sunset is neaiiiig; 

Sirmiqweeds aie sealing; 
Cat-tails are browning yonder acceptably. 

Beckons diat pathway tngh 9 the naomtain 

Abostle with fsie trees. 

Whose fragrance is mindsease; 
Thcie. too, at rock-base mmnmrs the fountain. 

Far in the lowlands ripe nuts are clattering 

Down from the tree-tops 

Wet with Ae frost-drops; 
Hig|i in die branches squirFels are chattering. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



49 



In the depths of the brooklet minnows 
are playing 
Their sides flashing sunshine. 
Disdainful of angle-line 
And worm-baited hook in the crystal 
depths swaying. 



Lead then, O Pathway, through bough 
shade and sunshine 
To overgrown heights and un- 
trodden 
By ways boulder strewn and 
grass-sodden. 
And upward Fll follow Thee, even 
to source of thy life-stream. 







50 BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



Pressler's Band 



T^ALKIN' about music in a kind o' off-hand way, 

^ The kind that bears repeatin*, as Father ust to say. 
There ain*t none any better*n a drum-band any^vhere. 
If I was needin' cheerin' and inspirin', I declare, 
rd jist like to take a walk down town an' stand 
An' hear old Yankee Doodle played by Presslers' Band. 

Durin' campaign season that 'are band was sure to play 
An' then you'd see the crowd begin a-movin' that-a-way, 
Boys would come a runnin' for four blocks or more 
And old soldiers come a "heppin' " that could hardly walk 

before. 
You knew th' Thomcreek Delegation was a goin' to be on 

hcmd 
When you heard old Yankee Doodle played by Presslers' 

band. 

Douglas Pressler was their fifer an' allays led th' band. 

And his half a dozen brothers played the snares on either 

hand. 
Lordy! How they made that old "Six- Eight" tune hum. 
While Henr\' Egolf beat th' stufEn' out th' old bass drum. 
Any feller that edn't heard 'em ain't supposed to understemd 
The glory o' th' music played by Pressler's bcind. 

Presslers' band! Seems Hke I kin hear 'em yet 

A playin' martial melodies, the kind you can't forget. 

If I could choose my music for jist a single time 

I'd say it was a pri\ilege mos' pleasin' cm' sublime 

To elbow into Thorncreek's crowd an' stand 

An' hear old Yankee Doodle played by Presslers' Band. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER ^i 



Telling Them Over 



Scene: Love's Boudoir. 
Characters: She and I. 

HOW many sweethearts had I, Love? 
Well, I'm surprised at ^ou 
Asking a question such as that ! 

Why, just as if one really knew. 

I've had so many. Let me see. 

Begin with the very first, shall I? 
Well then, her name was Dessie Jay, 

A perfect darling, but so shy. 

We wandered over hill and dale 

Together, she and I (Just so). 
As happy as the birds in air. 

Or breezes listless where they blow. 
But just as birds and breezes do. 

Flit and with evening's coming part. 
So she from me forgetting went 

Leaving but image in my heart. 

Then next came pretty Roselind. 

Her eyes, I think, were blue 
And sparkled 'neath their silken lash 

Like June-morn drops of dew ; 
Just then it somehow seemed to me 

She was perfection through and through. 
I swore by all the stars that shone 

Hers was the only love I knew. 



^ BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



What! Pouting? So soon. My Dear? 

I am quite sorry, but it's true. 
But why should }fou be jealous. Love? 

Have I not told all thai to i;ouP 
Shall I tell more? Yes? Very well. 

Then followed Jane, Lurene and Kate, 
All of them jewels I must admit. 

And yet, — each went the way of Fate. 

Then Genevieve, a glorious dream 

Was she. Her every move was grace; 
A being such as gods adore. 

So jewel-brilliant was her face. 
But just as lustre lights a dream 

With glimpses of scenes that woo 
So she with all her charms and grace 

Proved hke most dreams — untrue. 

You are not angry, are you. Love? 

You asked that I tell them to you. 
I merely comphed with your bidding, you know. 

Pray tell me what more could I do ? 
Cheer up, now. Try to look pleasant. 

For I've told you of all save just one. 
That frowning doesn't become you at all. 

And surely you'll smile when I've done. 

She tmns to the piano, renders a short interlude, dreamily* 
then turns again to him. 

Ah! Smiling? Eager to hear of that one 

Who was radiant, splendid and fair 
With lips pink hke as a rose-bud. 

Like spray of the ocean her hair? 





'A Thousand Pardons I Crave of ^'ou 

For Bringing those Tears to Your Eye." 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER ^3 



How well I remember that evening 

When I first saw her standing there 
With dark, melting eyes and dark lashes, 

And that blood-red rose in her hair. 
Yet another rose pinned at her bosom 

Which rose, gently heaving, and fell. 
Each word that she uttered made music 

Of incidents that she would tell. 
E'en now it somehow seems to me 

That she is standing near, — so near. 
With that same rose-gemmed bosom; 

That those sweet accents still I hear. 
And my heart beats fierce within me 

And I can but listen on still 
Held by their power and magic, — 

By laughter like ripple of rill. 
Till I tremble lest it be but dream; 

Till I marvel that it could be true. 
And dread lest I shall 'waken. 

While it thrills me through and through. 
That hair, — like the gold-washed sea-spray. 

And that rose-bud nestled there, — 
I really think I loved her. 

She was so queenly fair. 

And that is the end of my story. 

Sweetheart, have I made you cry? 
A thousand pardons I crave of you 

For bringing those tears to your eye. 
So come to my heart, now, Darling. 

Come. Do not be angry and care 
That last love that moved me so deeply 

Was yours. Darling. Now. There! There! 



5* BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



Love, a Problem 



T OVE. What is it, who can tell. 

It*s round about us everywhere. 
Makes the possessor happy for a day. 

Then flees — and loneliness is there, 

Lopc It is a problem, by die way. 

In fact, it is a teasing mystery. 
Those are who comprehend it, so they say. 
It certainly is puzzling to me, 

Lape. It comes alike to plain and fair 

And puts the heart to utter beat-rout ; 

Makes man, rejected, tear his hair. 

And woman weep her pretty eyes out. 

Lcve. That tender, fragile cord 

That oft-times bears so little stretching. 

Yet draws its victims each toward 
The other with so gentle fetching. 

Lave. That thing that queens have spumed 
And kings have scoffed and laughed at; 

For which die peasant maid has yearned 
And smirking swain has chaSed at 

Lave. When Cupid spreads the feast, 
TTiat toner of the heart and blood 

^W^thout which man becomes but beast 
And women fade in bloom and bud. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER ^^ 



Love, Undying love. What is it? 

Woe to the heart that never knew 
Its touching, tender pangs exquisite 

In all the years its journeyed through. 

Love. The gift of God invisible ; 

Life's sweetest, purest passion. 
By two most commonly divisible 

Regardless of the place or fashion. 

Love. What is it? Can you tell? 

Called beautiful, yet never seen. 
Comes unexpected, undeserved as well ; 

Crowns peerless, crowns alike the mean. 

Love. Man's marvel and his ponder. 

The poet's theme, the warrior's thunder; 

The World's unchanging food for thought 
And woman's constant source of wonder. 




^ BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



The Lost Rose 



A ROSE-BUD grew beside a garden wall. 
'^^ I watched it grow amd bud and bloom at last. 

I know not why I choose that one of all 

The rose-buds there in clusters massed. 



Something in its beauteous tint and hue 

Quite marked it from each other rose. 

To me it seemed perfection bom anew 
With its so rare and queenly ix>se. 

At length I said, "Another day 

And then I'll pluck this flower rare. 

Till then from it my hand I'll stay, — 
Leave it to bloom in beauty there. 

Alas! Alas! E'er morning came, — 

E'er dawn had blossomed into day, — 

Another hand in stealth (O Shame) 

Had borne my peerless rose away. 

TTie other roses bloomed there still, — 

The hand had plucked but that lone one. 

But none of these, somehow, could fill 
Place in my heart as it had done. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER ^7 



Laugh Instead O' Swearin' 



T^HERE'S a funny side to farmin', 

^ Just as lots of people say. 

But there's sides that ain't so charmin'. 

If you farm to make it pay. 
If you strike a stump or stone 

When you're breakin' up new ground. 
When a shin-stroke makes you groan. 
It ain't so easy, I'll be bound. 

To laugh instead o' swearin*. 

In summer when you're makin' hay 

Folks thinks 'at it's all meadow-larks. 
Kind o' fairy-land all day. 

But storms come on and lightnin' sparks 
Foretell a rain, hay cut and dry; 

When you've hustled, worked and sweat. 
Are ready for the bam to hie — 

The load falls off, — you most forgot 
To laugh instead o' swearin*. 

But when the ploughin's done at last. 

Corn's growed up an' hid that stump. 
The storm with rush and dash is past. 

The larks jist pouch their throats out plump. 
The hay is in, though turned some black. 

All mishaps of the past forgot. 
The soft breeze rolls the wheat waves back. 

At least when things go right, why not 
Laugh instead o' swearin'. 



58 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



The Messenger to Garcia 



^/7HERE is the hero. Brave Garcia, 
^^ Bulwark of Freedom in Cuba?' 
Questioned the voice of the Nation. 
Liberty waited, breathless and fearful. 
For in the Island's interior. 
Far in the depths of the mountain; 
There in the fastness of Nature, 
Hoarding their strength for the issue. 
Strong in their knowledge of right. 
Were her defenders. 

Answer came none to the question — 
"What can be done for their succor?" 
Anxious again spoke the Nation 
*Who then will find the brave leader. 
Bear him our message and cheer him?*' 
Nature then answered and straightway 
Brought forth a man for the purpose; 
Modestly took he the message. 
Safely and securely he wrapped it, 
Placed he it under his garment, and 
Went on his mission. 

Rowan, the man with a purpose; 
Rowan, the trusted, the fearless. 
Dreamed he nor stayed single moment, — 
Glance of his eye told a story ; 
Moved he a Spcirtan determined. 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER ^9 



A poem of graceful precision 
As without thought of the future, — 
Glancing not back as he wended 
His armor of will girded firmly 
With good sword of Damascus courage 
He guarded the message. 

Not of the way did he question. 
Fearless to southward he wended 
On from the seat of his Country, — 
Onward he sped o*er the waters, — 
Landed at last on the Island 
E'er a fourth day had departed. 
On through the land of the foemen, — 
Far through the thorns and the tangles. 
Threading his way through the sand plains,- 
Found he at length the Great Leader, and 
And gave him the message. 

Found then, at last and so nobly 
Found by the will of a knight 
Nature dubbed, armed and equipped,— 
Nature Herself his attendant. 
Hail him, ye lovers of manhood 
Armed with a bold independence; 
Hail ye this conquering hero, — 
Questionless, dutiful, fearless, — 
Who at the call answered quickly. 
Who urged by duty to fellow men. 
Carried the message. 



«o BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



A Winter Evening 



A FTER a zero spell's abated 

Leavin' th* weather moderated. 
It does seem strange an' no mistake 
When a feller lays awake 
Of an evenin' in the winter, 
Hearin' rain fall hinter-splinter 
On th' roof with mighty roar 
An' like a young Niag'ry pour 
Torrents down th' long eave-spout 
For th' old rain bar'l enroute. 



All th' household sound asleep; 
Blazes up th' chimley leap; 
Wind a moanin' an' complainin' 
As if witches was profanin'. 
Sweeps 'round corners; drops o' rain 
Dash agin th' winder pane, — 
Runnin' down it, makes a sight 
Like comets f allin' in th' night. 



On th' wall th' clock's a tickin', 
Givin' Father Time a lickin' 
For not movin' on his way 
To catch th' dawn of another day; 
You jist settin' there a thinkin'. 
At th' Fire Genii blinkin' 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER «i 



As they dance in highest glee 
In th' blaze that sets 'em free. 



Stir th* embers an' they rise, 
Snappin', snarlin', ever' wise, 
Up th' wide brick chimley, 
Lightin' their way dimly 
In th' sooty darkness there; 
Rushin' t'ward th' open air. 
There to vanish evermore 
As th' fairies did of yore. 

Readin' "Heroes of th' Plain," 
Of th' "Red Men" by 'em slain; 
How they killed th' buffaloes 
Till now they're only seen in shows; 
How th' mountain lions screamed. 
Wolves awoke 'em when they dreamed, 
"Braves" with gun an' tomahawk 
Through th' woods an' wildgrowth stalk 
An' catch th' hero in th' night. 
But — ^he gits away all right. 

Workin' problems now an' then; 
Tinkerin' with your grammar when 
Clauses fill up ever' line. 
Verbs an' adverbs intertwine, 
Hidin' all th' thought there be 
Like wild grapevines hides a tree 
When th' summer's growth o' leaves 
In a mass around it cleaves. 



es 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



!■ ., 



Then let th' rain jist pour 

For people must all things endure. 

And by th' blazin' light \\ithin 

Equal up things cis they kin. 

And in summer or in >NTnter 

Let th' rain fall hinter-splinter 

On th' roof with mighty roar 

An' like a Young Niag'ry p)our 

Its torrents dov,Ti th' long eavespout 
For th' old rain bar'l enroute. 



-'A 




BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 63 



When Bub Comes to Our House 



ID LUE RIVER flows in its still, windin' way 
'^ Down from th' woods as it did on th' day 
Long time ago when we played on its shore 
Clad in th* bluejeans we most always wore 
When Bub come to our house. 

Often we fished for th' sucker an' chub. 
Baited with fish-worms or crickets an' grub; 
Often ketched bullfrogs an' turtles an' clams — 
Shut off the stream on the shallows with dams; 
Lots o' times fried all the fish we had caught 
In a small skillet we'd slipped out an' brought 
Down from th' house, over a fire that we made. 
Built in a furnace that we once had laid 
When Bub come to our house. 

Bub was a neighbor of our'n an' come 
Mostly on Saturdays, stayed all night some. 
Ust to hunt nuts in th' woods all around. 
Filled up th' sacks, let 'em lay on th' ground. 

Got our "Express" with th' side-boards on, — 
Side-boards we'd made when father was gone, — 
Hauled th' sacks home. We hauled sand other days; 
Done all kinds o' things in all kinds o' ways 
When Bub was to our house. 



64 



BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 



"Giminee Krismas" you'd oft hear Bub say 
"I ake fer a swim in that old hole today." 
Then s\\Tmmin' we'd go maybe three times or more. 
Then when we went up to supper before 
Dryin' our hair Ma would say, "Your hair's wet. 
^Tiere have you been?" We'd say, "Runnin' cin' sweat" 
Then she'd say, "Such wild boys," an' dien smile 
Jist zif she knew" where we'd been all th' while. 
Bub bein' to our house. 




•Bub. 



Blue River flows in its same windin' 

way. 
Ain't changed a bit, but then Bub has 

someway. 
He's growed now an' tall with a digni- 
fied air; 
Wears his fine clothes when he goes 

anj'Avhere ; 
Business-like look in his eye when he 

talks; 
Same kind o' look to hi'self when he 

walks; 
Boyhood with him has most come to an 

end. 
Now he most always brings out a 

friend 
When he comes to our house. 

Though we're older now ein' can't play 

th' scamp; 
Can't play hide-an'-seek in th' old 

sugai camp; 
Though that old bucket o' fun is upset; 
Its genuine pleasure fer all of us yet 
When Bub comes to our house. 



MAF 80 1912 



ti^ 



UBRARY 




